


Target Practice

by ohmachete



Series: The Del Floria Affairs [2]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Day Off, F/M, Flirting, Friendship, Gen, One Shot, Pre-Relationship, Screenplay/Script Format, Slow Burn, Snark, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 04:48:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6456517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmachete/pseuds/ohmachete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's her first time in New York and all Gaby wants is to have a day out in the city that never sleeps. However, Napoleon will only concede to it if they kick up a little trouble first. Naturally, Illya wants nothing to do with it.</p><p>a.k.a the time Napoleon taught Gaby how to pick pocket.</p><p>-----------------------<br/>A screenplay format fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Target Practice

NEW YORK CITY, USA. LATE AUGUST 1963 

DEL FLORIA TAILOR & CLEANERS 

It's a bright day on Manhattan Island. The East River glimmers under warm rays of the sun. Down the street from the UN stands an inconspicuous little building. The ground floor is made up of a series of mundane shops: A corner bodega, Four-Five-Six Laundry, a barber shop, and a tailoring and dry cleaning shop by the name of Del Floria. 

The tailor shop is a cramped, traditional space that looks like a clipping out of a time capsule. Piles of plain fabrics stack on shelves embedded into the walls. An old man with coke-bottle glasses cuts fabric across an old scratched table, humming absently as a tall dark-haired man pokes throughout the shop. GABY TELLER emerges from the dressing room in the back, adjusting a cream yellow hat on the back of her head. She's ready to fix a pair of sunglasses on her face when she stops next to Napoleon listlessly inspecting a bolt of caramel colored wool. 

GABY 

Should I give you two a moment? 

NAPOLEON 

We can't all be teacher's favorite. I have to amuse myself somehow. 

Gaby's eyebrow creeps upward as Napoleon crisply folds the fabric back around the bolt and puts back where he's found it. 

GABY 

( skeptical )

You were waiting for me? 

NAPOLEON 

( in a matter-of-fact tone )

It's not every day we have to save the world. And it'd be criminal to spend this one inside a hotel room. 

A curt hum slips between Gaby's lips, pushing her wide-eyed sunglasses onto her face. Napoleon's hand slips casually into his pocket, trailing after her as she exits the shop. 

GABY 

Who said anything about staying in? I'd rather see the city. 

ON THE AVENUE 

The two of the emerge onto a scarce sidewalk away from the main artery of foot traffic. The street lined with small trees provide shelter from the summer sun. 

NAPOLEON 

That I can do. The movies? I heard that Midtown is still playing Dr. No. Or the MoMA? I believe they're featuring an Art Nouveau exhibit. It's a bit early for the clubs, although I suppose we could get a head start.

Gaby takes off in a chosen direction, meandering without an objective. Her head turns to watch a barge float through the slice of river that can be seen from the street, finger thoughtfully tapping her chin. She turns on her heel, angling a confused look over at him. 

GABY 

( critical )

Are you even allowed in art museums anymore? 

Napoleon's mouth opens and closes without admission of guilt. 

NAPOLEON 

( hesitant )

Technically, no. 

Gaby shakes out something between a scoff and a laugh, her weight pivoted on one foot as Napoleon hails a passing taxi down. Reluctantly, she follows. 

GABY 

How about we start off small. 

Napoleon concedes with a polite nod, following her into the back. His hand gives the side of the driver's seat a pat. 

NAPOLEON 

Washington Square, please. 

Gaby's head tucks against the side of the open window, watching the buildings laze by. They stop under a red light, choked in by several other cars. Suddenly, her mouth turns into a frown. 

GABY 

( curiously )

Have you seen Illya since we got into town? 

Napoleon doesn't stir from his chin fitted into his hand, focused on nothing in particular. 

NAPOLEON 

( slowly )

No.

( a beat, he lifts his head from his hand )

Makes you curious, doesn't it?

Gaby leans forward to squint out the window as the taxi rocks back into motion, blindly folding her sunglasses into her lap. 

GABY 

( casually )

What about on a motorbike? 

Napoleon's head turns to address her, curious now. He leans across to see her vantage through the window, spotting a very tall bulky man in a brown jacket on a motorcycle in the lane next to them. It is undeniably ILLYA KURYAKIN. 

NAPOLEON 

Now _that_ is one of the last places I'd expect him.

Illya's gaze swoops to the side of him as a yellow taxi rolls up to a stop. Napoleon rests his arm along the edge of the window, Gaby looking seconds away from punching him the longer he keeps her pinned to her seat. 

NAPOLEON 

( smug )

Can I help you, comrade? 

Illya's gaze fixes to the road, fingers flexing the handles as Napoleon's presence seems to transmit a bolt of annoyance from head to toe. 

ILLYA 

( blowing out a sigh )

I doubt it, Cowboy. You forget to check your jacket this time.

Napoleon's smug demeanor tightens briefly, snapping back into his side of the car. Gaby sits forward, seizing the opportunity to check out his ride. Meanwhile, Napoleon pats down his jacket to find the bug tucked into the lining. 

GABY 

Where'd the bike come from? 

ILLYA 

I need it to run errand. Much more efficient than a car. 

Napoleon's lips press in a fine line, flinging the bug out the other window to get crushed by oncoming traffic. 

NAPOLEON 

( irked )

Well, don't let us hold you back. 

ILLYA 

( shrugs )

It can wait. 

NAPOLEON 

( leaning back over Gaby )

If you wanted to join us, you know there are less invasive methods. 

ILLYA 

( bending himself down to see him )

Why? This one worked just as well. 

Illya sits up to turn off down the corner with a rip of the bike's engine. The two of them watch him go in silence before Napoleon leans back into his seat. Gaby's look slates less than tolerable of their antics, which he ignores to a little shake of his head. Gaby sighs. 

WASHINGTON SQUARE PARK 

The square bustles with summer life. Women in sharp cat eye sunglasses soak up the sun around a wide brimmed fountain, their feet idly tapping to the twangs of an acoustic guitar being played under a nearby tree. 

Napoleon leads the way, smile strong and proud as he side steps a skipping dog on its way to fresh cool water. 

NAPOLEON 

( taking in a fresh breath )

Welcome to the best kept secret of NYC. 

Gaby remains alongside Illya, whose opinions seem difficult to map. They stand close to one another, but yet never touch. Gaby's hand is perched beneath her chin, tilting her head askew to deconstruct the man before her. 

GABY 

Is this your neighborhood? 

ILLYA 

( rolls his eyes )

I doubt the location of his bedroom is a well kept secr-- 

NAPOLEON 

( cutting him off )

By the way, did it ever come up that the fräulein cracked a Mosler safe bare-handed in Florianópolis? I think I have a protégé. 

Illya frowns, glaring at him from beneath his dark sunglasses. 

GABY 

( shrugs )

I got lucky. Herzenritter was surprisingly predictable. 

ILLYA 

( stiffly )

You have the touch for it. Very familiar with mechanics. Not surprising. 

Gaby's head turns to him, obviously waiting for the proverbial pat on the head that is short to come. Napoleon stalls a gaze between the two of them, quickly trying to map the exchange. 

NAPOLEON 

I was thinking we should see that she's formally trained. What do you think? 

GABY 

( turning her attention back to napoleon )

I was talking to Waverly about that today, actually. Especially when one of you gets put out of commission.

ILLYA 

( tips his chin up proudly)

Not a bad idea. Obviously the most suitable for teaching should do it. 

Napoleon's eyebrows raise to address Illya critically. 

NAPOLEON 

_Obviously._

( a beat )

In fact, that's precisely what I have on the agenda today.

Gaby pins him with a contorted look, having heard no such thing. Illya steps forward, his hand reaches over to graze lightly on the back of her arm. 

ILLYA 

I doubt you have any skills that are appropriate in public settings, Cowboy. I can take it from here. 

NAPOLEON 

( charmingly )

Funny you should say that, it was right around this fountain I took a very lovely-- 

GABY 

( interjecting )

You know that gelato looks delicious, Illya why don't you go get us some? 

Illya turns a look down to her, her hand falling on his back to steer him away from Napoleon's baiting. He resists her touch at first and her expression sours. 

ILLYA 

( gaby pushes him )

But I-- 

GABY 

( lightly )

Hazelnut if they have it, thank you. 

Illya opens his mouth to argue, but his expression tangles into a fluster. He excuses himself across the square to join the line pitched behind the cart. 

Gaby's arms fold, the both of them watch the blundering Russian stand in line between crying children and their mothers. Napoleon smiles. 

NAPOLEON 

For a rad he's a pushover, isn't he? 

GABY 

( inspecting her nails )

One of these days he's going to sock you in the face and I'm not going to stop him. 

NAPOLEON 

It's all in good fun. 

She rolls her eyes, hand swinging back to her side to address him with a curious tilt. 

GABY 

So feel free to clue me in on your _'agenda'_. 

Napoleon's lips purse, he tilts opposite to her in concession. 

NAPOLEON 

Well, he's not wrong. He wouldn't approve. 

She returns her attention to Illya, who accidentally scared a child into dropping his ice cream cone. Napoleon's lips press, biting down what'd probably be an inappropriate comment. 

GABY 

Oh? 

NAPOLEON 

( turning back to her )

You'll have to agree to get a little adventurous with me. 

Gaby's head doesn't turn. She's too fixated on the sight of their Russian friend trying to employ damage control on a hysterical five year old. 

GABY 

And him? We're not just going to leave him. 

NAPOLEON 

He said it himself, he has errands. 

She drops her gaze to Napoleon, who meets her look with a halo worthy innocence. 

GABY 

( getting annoyed )

I'm not leaving him in a park. 

NAPOLEON 

Of course not, I'll pick you up at eight. 

Illya emerges from the gelato catastrophe with two cones in his hand. He catches Napoleon's parting wink as he turns on heel to make his exit. The two of them turn to watch him go until he's lost in the crowd. 

ILLYA 

( confused )

Where is Cowboy running off to? 

GABY 

( sighs )

Who knows. 

WALDORF ASTORIA HOTEL - NIGHT

Gaby emerges from the bright walled hotel, coat demurely draped over one arm while the other fusses her hair so that it falls down her back. The street is blocked with cabs pulling in and out, but it's one that calls her attention to it. Napoleon tilts his head back with a greeting smile, popping the door open before sliding generously to the other side of the seat as she enters. 

NAPOLEON 

I see Waverly spares no expense.

Gaby drops her coat in the space between them, snapping the door shut as she adjusts the bottom of her shift dress. 

GABY 

It's a little much, if you ask me. 

NAPOLEON 

( motions the driver )

Careful, it'll grow on you. 

GABY 

( rolls her eyes )

Whatever it is you have planned tonight, I hope it involves buying me a drink. You owe me that much. 

NAPOLEON 

I thought we'd start with the basics... picking pockets isn't as easy as I make it look. Have you ever heard of such a thing as the Mattachine Society? 

GABY 

( blandly )

No. 

NAPOLEON 

It's an activist movement founded to protect people with certain...proclivities. Relations between them and the NYPD are very tense right now. It makes for an especially paranoid nightlife experience when there's a high chance you could be part of a raid or entrapment operation at any given moment. Which means they're going to be especially difficult targets. 

GABY 

( turning to stare at him blankly )

Can't start me off easy, can you? 

NAPOLEON 

( with a slight shrug )

Where's the fun in that? 

CHUMLEY'S 

The taxi deposits them before a building without any sort of place marker for a name, just an address. Napoleon leads her through into a dim lit speakeasy walled up with books. An old man at the counter changes jazz records while a small crowd congregates around benches with their cocktails, some swaying closely hip to hip within a free space in the corner. 

Gaby's silent with her critique, but she seems pleased by the divey atmosphere. Napoleon shrugs out of his jacket, the extent of his efforts to look casual. He scans the crowd carefully, bending down to Gaby's ear once he's spotted a target. 

NAPOLEON 

That one. 

Gaby follows his gaze to a woman seated alone at the edge of the bar. Her hair cropped short, pretty and simple, her nose half stuffed in a book as one leg taps out to the beat of John Lee Hooker. Without waiting for her nay-say, he moves to claim the empty seat at the bar next to a young blonde sucking on a cigarette. 

GABY 

( at his back )

You're joking. 

A deep breath fills her lungs before she finds the will to bring herself over to the free seat behind her target. Napoleon pretends to pay no mind, treating his whiskey neat fleeting attention. And before he's finished it, another appears on the house. He's directed to booth in the far corner and raises the glass in commencement. 

Gaby's play makes a turn for the worst. Her mark is distracted, but smiles warmly at the presence of Gaby's hand grazing closely to her thigh. The woman bends in to say something into Gaby's ear before disappearing through the back. Gaby straightens, now empty handed as her mark flees. There is hesitance as she waits, eventually working herself up to follow. 

NAPOLEON 

( casually leaning into her way )

What are you doing? 

Gaby nearly stumbles two steps back as Napoleon leans his arm and himself to gate her progression. Quickly, she gives up an attempt to look past and instead cranes a look of urgency at him instead. 

GABY 

She left. 

NAPOLEON 

If you go and meet her, she's going to expect something I'm not entirely convinced you're prepared to do. 

A breath fills her lungs, armed to argue a point, but it's lost just as instantly. 

GABY 

( her hand raises and flops to her side again )

Well--! Then give me a new target. 

NAPOLEON 

Watch first, and meet me out front. 

Gaby twirls to watch as Napoleon steps aside her. With confidence he crosses the room to gather his jacket. The man sitting next to him turns for his attentions. Napoleon flashes him a charming smile, leaning over to whisper into his ear. He places his hand warmly across the other's chest in an intimate gesture, withdrawing with a wallet tucked in his palm. His smile creases a fraction as they make eye contact, his free hand patting the man's shoulder in one last goodbye before parting. 

ON THE AVENUE 

Gaby emerges with her coat back over her arm, taking long strides to catch up with Napoleon down the street. He checks the wallet with little discrepancy and drops it into a flower box once he's finished. 

NAPOLEON 

Misdirection is important. You can't just simply take something, no matter how good you are with your hands. They have to be distracted, preoccupied. Talk to them, touch them, make distracting gestures that draw attention away from what you're really doing. 

Gaby rolls her eyes, folding her arms to her chest. 

GABY

( contrary )

I was distracting her.

Napoleon turns to open another door for her. 

NAPOLEON 

In all but the proper way. How about we give it another swing. 

CAFE BOHEMIA

The two are greeted by a soulful hum accompanied by a live piano. The venue is dark, patrons tucked into tables with their eyes locked on the center stage. 

Napoleon scans the crowd, arm leaning on a rail overlooking the main floor. He eyes a woman at the bar toying boredly with a thick rope of pearls around her neck. A man on the stool next to hers leans over to talk every few minutes, but she looks about as enthused as she would a root canal. 

NAPOLEON 

( raises his eyebrows at gaby )

Take two? 

It takes Gaby a moment to pinpoint who he's picked out, and when she does her head turns to drop him a look that only fuels his amusement on the matter. 

GABY 

( unimpressed )

Really? 

Napoleon remains perched on the railing as Gaby stalks her prey. He only rises to make an order to a passing waiter. 

Gaby takes in a few drinks across the course of the set. She laughs, she's touchy, she's all the signs of a sloppy drunk. She points out a man across the bar, leaning over to whisper in her ear as she carefully un-clips the string of pearls around her neck. Her cocktail spills into the woman's lap and immediately she dissolves into several apologies, dropping the pearls into her purse and excusing herself to grab some napkins. 

Napoleon's at the end of the bar by the time she gets there. They exchange a glance as she begins to pile napkins into her hand. He turns his head, slipping in her purse to test the pearls between his fingers. 

NAPOLEON 

( discreetly )

They're fake. 

GABY 

Does it matter? 

NAPOLEON 

Not really. Do you want to cause some trouble? 

Gaby's arms fold, leaning back against the bar next to him to try and guess what trouble he has in mind. 

GABY 

( cooly )

What do I get out of it? 

NAPOLEON 

( points to her with his glass )

I'll let you have a go at having your hands in my pockets. 

GABY 

( scoffs and turns to him with a smile )

I want nothing to do with your pockets. 

His eyebrows climb as he frowns complacently with her rejection. 

NAPOLEON 

Not up to a challenge? 

There's a laugh on her lips that never quite makes it, she pushes herself off the bar to stumble herself into the man bothering her mark earlier. 

GABY 

Oh, I'm so sorry!

Her hand pats him down, increasingly flustered as he steadies her upright. She excuses herself, dropping off the stack of napkins before escaping to the balcony. Napoleon crosses the venue to join her, similarly trying to pass the man and giving him a slight bump. The pearls scatter to the floor, more than a few heads turn to attention. 

NAPOLEON 

( holding the pearls up )

Sorry, I believe you dropped these.

The woman unleashes an appalled gasp, stepping in with her purse armed and ready. Napoleon politely bows out before the scene escalates itself, joining Gaby to watch the chaos of one woman unearth a whole dance floor. 

NAPOLEON 

( complacent )

That was satisfying. 

Gaby chases her maraschino cherry with her straw, looking almost entirely disapproving. A smile hides on the corners of her lips. 

GABY 

You're awful. 

NAPOLEON 

( his glance falls onto her )

Very. 

( a beat )

Shall we?

ON THE AVENUE 

Napoleon exits the lounge backwards, opening his jacket to reveal the lining of each side as if he were about to perform a trick. 

NAPOLEON 

Now, I've hidden a bangle somewhere on me. When you can find and take it without my noticing we'll move on. 

GABY 

( narrowing her eyes at him as she picks the maraschino cherry off the stem )

Well if you're waiting for me to distract you, doesn't that defeat the point? 

NAPOLEON 

( sparing her a sly glance as he turns to walk forward )

That sounds, to me, like a problem for you to figure out. 

Gaby's eyes roll, tossing the stem out onto the street before stretching her legs out to catch up to him. 

GABY 

Where to next? 

Her arm encloses around his, innocently tethering herself as they walk. Napoleon serves a sided glance, utterly unconvinced of her trickery. 

NAPOLEON 

A club. It's called Trude Heller's and I'm sure you've yet to see anything like it. 

Carefully he pries himself out of her arm to cuff his sleeves and tuck his tie carefully into his pocket. 

GABY 

( amused )

Overdressed for once? Never thought I'd see the day. 

NAPOLEON 

Nothing a bit of savoir-faire can't handle. 

TRUDE HELLER'S 

Two women in skimpy tent dresses and eyelashes for days stroll ahead of the mark and through a pair of black double doors. Lights of every hue dance across the walls inside, circling a live band playing to a crowd at mercy to its rhythm. 

Gaby is enamored with the glitz. Go-Go dancers line the walls, people twisting in and out of the dance floor. Napoleon reappears at her side with a drink, bending down to speak . 

NAPOLEON 

Rumor has it this place is a favorite of Salvador Dali's. 

She only manages an impressed glance before a man in mustard yellow pants swings her into the dance floor. Napoleon laughs to himself, tending to his drink while the crowd consumes her. It's not long before her hand spikes overhead if she were trapped at sea. Discarding half his drink, he wades in. It's not too far before his wrist is caught by her small hand, dragging him into a dance. 

GABY 

( cheekily )

Good to see one of my partners can keep up. 

He bends to her will easily, moving between couples of the crowd. Her hands beckon him, only to have them cautiously upturned away from his pockets. As the music drawls, she plies her arms around his neck and drapes herself to him with a lazy smile. 

NAPOLEON 

You know, I'm beginning to think you may be the bad influence of us. 

GABY 

( sly )

You're the one who likes to cause the trouble.

Her hands slide back down from his shoulders, but before they can get anywhere further, he pulls at them again and twists her back up into his chest. 

NAPOLEON 

( speaking up beside her ear )

Only just enough to keep things interesting. 

Gaby twists herself lose, keeping her hands at a safe distance just shy at his shoulders. 

GABY 

( raises her eyebrows )

So why am I the bad influence? 

NAPOLEON 

( finding the right way to explain )

There...is something dangerous about someone experiencing things for the first time. It makes you want to see them through her eyes. 

Her head tilts, assessing him silently as his hands come rest at the small of her back. 

GABY 

How sentimental of you. 

NAPOLEON 

I'm not sure that's it.

Her chin lifts, gaze falling from his eyes down to his chin. Her thoughts never air, hands holding their weight as they lock around the back of his neck to tug him down. He innocently concedes to lower himself far enough to receive a kiss on the cheek. Soft and lingering, she pulls away just to whisper in his ear. 

GABY 

You don't fool me. 

She parts with a sweep of her hand across his chest, parting through the crowds to leave him there in the center of a sea of people. His chin tips downward, making a show to pat his pockets and trying not to look all too pleased. When he turns around, he finds Gaby perched across the room at the bar. She raises her drink in hand to him with a soft smile. A shiny new bangle dangling off her wrist.


**Author's Note:**

> Got a shout out to the TV series with the headquarters, but like a sexy new headquarters. 
> 
> This one-shot takes place between the Brazil Affair and the upcoming Senator Affair. 
> 
> \-----------------------  
> This is a part of a series transcribed from a private MFU roleplay. The screenwriting format has been softened so that it is more digestible to read without all that technical mumbo jumbo. 
> 
> Thank you for the support so far and don't forget to bookmark this series for updates!


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